Difference between revisions of "Armiger"

From PRIMUS Database
Jump to: navigation, search
Line 314: Line 314:
 
<font style="font-size:14px; color:#c80000; font-family: Copper Plate Gothic Light; letter-spacing:0.3ex"> Brief History:</font>
 
<font style="font-size:14px; color:#c80000; font-family: Copper Plate Gothic Light; letter-spacing:0.3ex"> Brief History:</font>
  
<font style="font-size:8px; color:#000; font-family: Copper Plate Gothic Light; letter-spacing:0.3ex">indentation</font> '''[The following is a recorded transcript from the initial detention of Armiger, taken October 9th, 2010]'''
+
<font style="font-size:8px; color:#000; font-family: Copper Plate Gothic Light; letter-spacing:0.3ex">indentation</font>  
  
“You want to hear the story now?  Good.  It might do you some good.  You keep asking if I’m from an ‘Alternate Reality’, but I tell you- it’s a matter of perspective.  I’m IN an ‘Alternate Reality’.  So far I’m not a fan of what you do here.”
+
Armiger's first appearance in Millennium City was October 12, 2010After targeting several low-profile superhuman criminals, his use of lethal force caused some degree of concern in the local police departmentAll crime scenes indicated that the force had been escalated, and that the targets had resisted violently.  The nature of these incidents forced law enforcement authorities to move first to attempt to head Armiger off.  Armiger was found at once scene, apparently awaiting apprehension.  He allowed himself to be taken into PRIMUS custody.
 
+
+
 
+
“So, where I’m from?  Yes, we have ‘Superheroes’.  Metahumans, whatever you wanna call ‘em.  They showed up sometime around the 1960’s.  Media ate it up, wanted to make them into the Comic Book types and ‘inspire’ people.  They also shipped ‘em off to ‘Nam.  My Dad was there.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“I told you he was the last of the Lebensborn, right?  You’re a smart fella, I’m sure you know what that was.  Nazi baby, supposed to be the ‘best’ of the selective breeding and all that jazz.  Yeah, don’t be shocked that some of the brightest geneticists on the planet were German… and got somethin’ right.  He was a ‘perfect’ genetic specimen, they said.  When the Mossad went to the US to get a tracker, Apache Bill was who they sent.  In the end, Mossad gave my Dad to Uncle Sam- and it was Apache Bill that stepped up to raise him, ‘cause Natives don’t care about genetics when it comes to takin’ care of a kid- they’ll adopt and take them in like their own.  So yeah, that’s why my white ass keeps talkin’ about my Apache Grand-dad.  I figure he earned that family title.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Dad was one ‘a the best- probably THE best.  Trained by a badass Apache tracker since childhood to be the ultimate Soldier?  Yeah, he was the best at what he didAnd he was good about it, too.  Didn’t think he was better than any other service member.  Ate with ‘em, bunked in the same barracks and tents, and properly saluted his officers and addressed the enlisted by rank.  They called him ‘Soldier-One’, and he had a pretty slick getup.  He was supposed to be the big patriotic inspiration during the war, get the troops all pumped up.  Except, you know- Vietnam.  Not the most popular war.  When he came home, the whole ‘Nazi Baby’ thing went public.  Protestors spit on him, media demonized him, and he got his walkin’ papers and retired with a handsome severance check.  He never held no grudges, either- he felt that it was an honor to defend the freedom to do and say what folks did to him.  Thing is?  He was a hell of a mechanic, so he supported us like that ‘officially’.  Truth was, he was still needed to do stuff ‘unofficially’- and there’s a reason for that.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Vietnam was bad enough for America…  but it was the Superhumans that screwed it up.  They were fightin’ normal folks in Vietnam.  And ‘Nam was no picnic in any reality.  So yeah, just like regular Joes lost their mind?  So did Superhumans.  A little batch splattered a village- well, except the women… they did other things with ‘em, but rest assured they didn’t live through it.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Well, it was ‘cause of that the Government decided to pull ‘em back.  Made an amendment to the Geneva Convention about Superhumans being illegal to use in conflicts- like they were nuclear weapons or somethin’.  The psychic ones got hit harder- though the CIA religiously sought ‘em out; and half of what they scooped up was New Age weirdo liars, Religious kooks, and chicken-shaker voodoo women.  In the end, we got our ‘Superheroes’, but most of what they did was assist in natural disasters and rescues with the occasional Metahuman ‘villain’ steppin’ up to conveniently justify the Superheroes’ purposeNow, my Dad stayed workin’ for the government covertly, mostly because he wasn’t a superhuman- and if somethin’ went public, it didn’t violate the Geneva Convention and such.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Now, before you get all upset about the mistreatment of Superhumans, lemme tell ya- it ain’t what you think.  The thing is, you start handin’ superpowers out at random?  You’re gonna get jerks.  A lot of jerks, to be specific.  And before you say anything- remember that you can be a raging douchebag and still be considered a hero publicly.  There was entire PR companies around Metahumans that spent half their time burying their screw-ups and the other half lyin’ about their achievements.  You give a man somethin’ that makes him superior to others around him, he starts thinkin’ he’s better and he’ll use what you give him to get what he wants.  Sometimes, it’s just easier to get what you want when people think you’re a ‘good guy’.  And it’s pretty damned easy to convince people you’re a ‘good guy’ because people are gullible.  If you don’t believe me, you outta hear about our elections.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Anway, so basically this is what it’s like.  My Dad got a pass, and he worked with DOD up until he met my mom.  And, well- Mom’s a real pretty lady.  And no, it ain’t weird to say that about my Momma- because, hell- how you think I got these good looks?  Anyway, she met Dad on some covert business in the Middle East while she was workin’ for the CIA and working in the interest of the USA and all that.  The 1980’s roll around and-BOOM.  I came into the world kickin’ and screaming, same way I almost went out of it.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“One thing our ‘realities’ got in common?  We lost Detroit, too.  We never rebuilt it, and wasn’t some guy in crazy tights and armor blastin’ it.  See, some crazy Superhumans decided they wasn’t ‘human’ and didn’t need human laws and such.  They went ‘sovereign’, and then decided to ‘fix’ Detroit- yeah, ours was a crime-ridden hell-hole since the decline of the auto industry… just like yours.  Well, that whole ‘fix’ thing meant ‘destroy everything from the ground up’, and as hard as it is to believe- the metahumans didn’t give the folks there a courtesy notice.  Must’ve got caught in the mail system and lost, right?  Yeah.  As If that don’t sound bad enough, most of the ‘heroes’ did their part.  They kinda had an itch and the Battle for the Motor City was the scratch- except, well… they broke stuff and got folks killed, too.  Dad loaded up with Grandpa Bill and went to evacuate civilians in the ghetto- because there was no news crews in the ‘hood, that meant none of the ‘heroes’ had a reason to do anything there.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Yeah, I know I sound bitter.  See, a news crew got to the ghetto when word got out that Soldier-One and Apache Bill were savin’ hundreds of people and holdin’ their ground.  And I got to watch my Daddy- the greatest American Hero that’s ever lived- die on live television.  And oh, how the TV loves to show stuff over and over again.  Might be why your lil’ Psychic gal’s cryin’ after lookin’ through my skull.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“I still spent summers with Grandpa Bill out there on the reservation in New Mexico, learnin’ some ‘Boy Scout’ stuff- like archery, rifle shootin’, pistol slingin’, knife-fightin’, knife-throwin’, fistfightin’, survival trainin’, trackin’, and stuff like that.  Okay, so it wasn’t like ‘Boy Scouts’ much, but it was still fun as hell for a kid like me.  Mom liked it, and her bein’ CIA like she was, I learned to talk to people and manipulate situations and the like.”
+
 
+
“Was about the time I was a kid in high school, Senior year, that things got hard.  Grandpa Bill up and kinda vanished, Mom was havin’ trouble with finances, things like this.  Mike Overfield was was a grade-A douchebag.  He was good at football for sure, and that was what seemed to give him that sense of entitlement.  I decided I wanted to join the Marines- seemed to be a noble callin'. I talked to Momma- she said it wasn’t a bad idea at all, and said she’d support the idea.  So I made my decision.  Mike Overfield said it was ‘for idiots’ to sign up, and never let me hear the end of it.  I got a lil’ tired of his jokes- but we were a football team, so the best I could do was talk trash right back at him.  Got him pretty good in front of some folks before the Homecomin’ game.  He smiled, and then he’d told me he’d been gettin’ some action from Amanda Raines- my sweetheart.  Thing is- I told her what he’d said… and she fessed up to it.  I confronted Mike about it, he laughed- and coach pulled us apart and benched me.  Finally he let up and put me in durin’ the fourth quarter as Runnin’ Back, hopin’ we could kill that short lead that Shadesboro had on us.  I shot a bee-line for Mike Overfield and speared him.  Yes, our own quarterback.  My team.  I heard his vertebrae snap, and I’d like to pretend it was a fluke- but I knew what I was doin’.  So did Momma.  She was pretty upset, but seemed more scared than anything.  No idea why- that woman could kill me a dozen times over before I finish this sentence.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“I finished out the year at an alternative school for bad kids.  Got my diploma.  I did all right in the Marines.  Boot camp was hell, like it outta be.  I went to the Infantry School over there in Cali, and ended up doin’ the Force Recon option.  It was cool, I tell you.  All the trainin’ was tough, but it wasn’t so bad since I didn’t have some chick back home that I was missin’.  Except momma, of course- she always wrote me letters in code and stuff, testin’ my brain out to make sure I didn’t go completely stale with my skills she taught.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Our towers got hit, and war happened.  Pretty big deal for us, just like for y’all.  So naturally, I was one of the first guys they sent to Afghanistan.  We fought, we were doin’ good.  And then we had that one bad day.”
+
 
+
“We got hit after the raid.  The helo got popped with an RPG- a hell of a lucky shot.  Went down hard on the slope and threw me out the back hatch.  The Taliban dragged my back and as if rollin’ down a mountainside wasn’t beatin’ enough for me, they beat me more.  I know a new bone cracked every day, and I couldn’t move most of my toes and I couldn’t feel my left hand at all….  I kinda wish it’d been the right hand, because that’s the one they took the cleaver to and lopped off a few of my fingers.  I’d just gotten used to the nasty sight of it bein’ infected after a few days, when they decided to spare me- and pinned me down while this old guy dug out my eyes with a fork.  I don’t know what they were sayin’, but I know that when you cut off fingers and put out eyes on a damn good shot like me- you’re sendin’ a message.
+
 
+
   
+
 
+
“It hurt, but the pain goes after a while.  You sit there waitin’ to just die.  Every lil’ noise you hear, it’s all you got.  Every smell sets your hairs standin’ on end.  I was getting’ good at figurin’ out how many were in the room with me.  Except, well- the bugs.  See, they wanted to get in the sockets, and with one hand barely workin’, and the other nothin’ but stumps… hard to get ‘em out.  They got inside, and I’d go nuts with the crawlin’ and eatin’ they were doin’.  Those animals holdin’ me must’ve thought that was hilarious… because they laughed about it a lot.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“I heard the kid when they brought him.  They dragged me out, and I could feel the sun on me, but the air was cold.  They told me to run.  Only English I’d heard in what had to be a month and some days.  I kinda ran.  See, I know what an RPG sounds like- not just the rocket, but the loadin’ mechanism.  I also know what a draft blowin’ up a ledge feels like, and how to hear the absence of an echo of bootsteps against rocks.  So I took a nintey-degree turn, and down I went.  I did hear the RPG.  I did feel the shrapnel hit my back and neck for a little while.  I did feel gravity for a second there, and then I went numb.  I’m not sure how far I fell, and how hard I hit the ground- but my brain was still intact and functionin’.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Now, you ask me what I remembered- and that’s what I remember.  If you get that lil’ Psychic gal’s courage up again, I’ll let her confirm it.  Everything else is a second-hand story, y’see.  It’s what Doc Reverend and Mom tell me.  And yes, you heard it right- Doc Reverend.  No, I don’t know his real name, and it’s not important.  I will say that he put me back together, sorta- reconstructed me with stuff that wasn’t supposed to exist for another hundred years, perhaps.  I do owe him that- because that’s why I’m still alive.  He said he needed me to ‘save us from the Nephilim’ and the like.  He said that the world was goin’ to Hell in a handbasket, and that this cybernetic system he’d made would put us on even ground with any Metahuman threat.  I kinda liked the sound of that when I first heard it, except it lost its splendor a bit when he told me it wasn’t supposed to be used on a damaged body and brain.  So, yeah- what I am?  It ain’t what it should’ve been, but Doc says I was the only one with the proper genetics to carry the cybernetics.  I will say this, though- for a botched product, he did pretty damned good.  I mean, look at me.  Eyes might be a lil’ creepy, but I think it makes me a lil’ more exotic or somethin’.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“And now you wanna know why I’m here?  Well, I came to in a basement.  Simple as that.  Basically, had a few clues on how to ‘pass for mostly normal’ and function like a regular dude- yes, in every way- I get asked that more than you think, and if you wanna see it I’ll show it to that psychic gal… if she’s cute. Doc checks up on me, tells me about the metahuman uprising and how lots of folks are dead, enslaved, or used as breeding stock.  Tells me my Mom established herself with your CIA here and got some people to listen to what she told ‘em about where I was from.  Seems they were more aware than you think.  Mom told me what to look into, who to target, and that’s what I did.  Bustin’ street-level scum and weirdos in a place that’s pretty familiar, and still pretty alien and weird.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“Now, I had that and some leads on some pretty bad men here, and struck out on my own tryin’ to establish somethin’.  I’d been doin’ fine, workin’ covertly and dealin’ with some of your problems for you...  and that’s when the Cape touched a nerve.  Guy was tryin’ to take a gun away from a man that just wanted to protect his family from some mutated freak.  I told him to stop, we got into the argument, and I confirmed the guy with the gun was justified and legal- then ol’ Spandex came at me, started tryin’ to ‘arrest’ me.  I didn’t see a badge, so I fought back.  Well, now you got a pretentious and over-aggressive metahuman bully in your morgue- and it took me about the same effort it does for you to open a bag of tater chips.  Now find me a law sayin’ I was wrong to defend myself and defend the rights of a law-abiding American to protect his family…  I’ll save the trouble, there ain’t one.  I looked.  Yes, without usin’ a computer.”
+
 
+
+
 
+
“So, here’s what we’re gonna do.  You’re going to go back to your superiors here at PRIMUS and tell them everything I’ve said. You’re gonna call my Momma at Langley and tell her I did what she said and got your attention.  Then you’re gonna draft up me some registration papers, and get me the stuff I need to live a semi-normal life… Social Security card, driver’s license, weapons permits, a good credit score, and one of these studio apartment homes with a hot tub.  You’re gonna do this, because you know what I was made to do- and this organization?  I’m pretty much a gift from God, because you know that ‘cyberline’ crap was a bust and you NEED me.  And what am I gonna do for you?  I’ll make sure your little database gets updated intel.  I’m gonna do operations for you that need a heavy hand.  I’ll clip any metahuman that steps outta line.  I’ll do the little hero stuff and all that.  I’ll establish myself, embed in this little hero-worshipping culture you have, and weed out anything that poses a threat to the United States and humanity as a whole.  So go on, take this to your little supervisor guy.  You’ll probably get promoted for finding me and ‘convincing’ me to help you.  I hope so- you’re a smart man if you take my offer.”
+
 
+
 
+
 
+
“Oh, there is an alternative.  But don’t ask about that, because it’s nasty.  Please remember that I’ve only shown you what I want you to see, and that doesn’t mean I’ve put on the ritz with my bag of tricks.  So, let’s get crackin’, bring me a pen and a cup of coffee.  Because we lost the world I came from, but I might be able to help you save this one before you make the same mistakes.”
+
'''
+
[Reccomended release.  He might be useful.]'''
+
  
 
<br><br>
 
<br><br>

Revision as of 23:10, 15 April 2014


TPIPatch2.png

Personnel File: Armiger

TempArm.png
The Phoenix Directive
Rank: Field Officer
Identity
Real Name: Jackson Eli Patriot
Known Aliases: Jackson Shackler, Vox Resistance
Age: 32 – D.O.B. 13.7.1981
Citizenship: USA
Birthplace: Red Creek, Mississippi (Earth 714)
Residence: Unknown
Occupation: Freelance Soldier,
Anti-Metahuman Response Operative
Legal Status: Registered Hero
Marital Status: Unmarried
Known Relatives: Son: James William Patriot, Mother: Rebecca Patriot,
Father: James Patriot/Soldier-One (DECEASED),
Grandfather: Albrecht Shackler (Former SS- DECEASED),
Adoptive Grandfather: William Redwind/Apache Bill (MIA)
Physical Traits
Speciess: Cyborg Human
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Height and Weight: 72" 200lbs
Build: Athletic-Toned
Eye Color: Black/Red Synthetic
Hair Color: Brown
Skin: Varies
Distinguishing Features: cybernetic augmentation is often obvious
Powers and Abilities
Known Powers: None
Equipment: Extensive and adaptive cybernetics
Other Abilities: Competent both in ranged combat and closed quarters
expert with multiple weapons, extremely cunning.
Full extent of capabilities not yet known/assessed.




Summary Profile:

indentationArmiger, real name Jackson Eli Patriot (there's a reason for the name). Former USMC Force Recon. Freelance Soldier, heavily cybernetically augmented on a genetic level. Speaks with a rough, deep voice with a southern drawl.

Bred and raised for one purpose- to be the template for the next generation anti-metahuman super soldier. A fact he's only recently come to discover, and it doesn't sit well with him. In the past he's been brainwashed into near-mindless loyalty, used as a wetworks operative, and altered on a genetic level to become a cybernetic killing machine. All things considered, he's got a right to be a little hostile.




Psychological Profile:

indentationInvestigation into the background of a ‘Jackson Eli Patriot’ has yielded absolutely no record prior to 2010. Despite his claims of serving in the United States Marine Corps, the Department of Defense has no record of him serving. His hometown of Red Creek, Mississippi holds no records of his attendance in high school, no voting registration, no police record, no medical record in the local hospital. The name of his father yielded no results, though his mother’s maiden name did reveal that the CIA held a record on her- though it was sealed and requests for the information were declined immediately.


He does not exist. He is a liar. Or so we hope.


While in custody, he made claims that he was from ‘another Earth’. Repeatedly, he stated that he has no recollection of anything from the last decade- even when interrogators questioned him about the last decade in ‘another Earth’, he maintains his current statement with no changes. Polygraph test indicates that he did not fabricate this story- however, this means he is either able to counter the polygraph or he actually believes his story.


Of course, it is easy to assume that he is delusional and in need of some form of psychiatric care. The agents tasked to this case seemed to believe so as well. However, that leaves us with two issues:


First and foremost, the nature of his cybernetics is like nothing we’ve seen. No indication of a manufacturer, no functional similarities to any existing design. His own genetic code seems to be altered and augmented- which is baffling, to say the least. It appears as if he was augmented to ‘disguise’ his enhancement. The exoskeletal structure is capable of ‘folding’ and allowing him to pass as a ‘normal’ person to a degree. Research shows that the cybernetic system is capable of adapting and regenerating, though to what degree remains uncertain. We were unable to continue our research, regretfully- as the data we retained was erased shortly afterward. The cause is still under investigation, and we will notify you if the data can be recovered. However, it has come to our attention that due to the degree of the augmentation; this no longer constitutes ‘technology’, but rather ‘physiology’ despite being inorganic in nature. Therefore, without his consent we will be unable to conduct further research.


The second issue is of equal concern. Per your suggestion, we tried to probe him psionically. The agent immediately noted some degree of psychological ‘scarring’. There were memories of the last decade imbedded into his subconscious, though most of these were merely ‘fragments’. The last conscious memory was confirmed to be somewhere in Afghanistan based on the Psionic Agent’s description and our analyst’s research. It could be possible that this memory was planted, but the detail was quite vivid beyond what we’ve seen before. If this alone isn’t enough to give you some pause, then you must realize that upon immediate psionic probing past the initial reading of surface thoughts- Mr. Patriot declared that he was acutely aware of the Psionic Agent’s probe and consented to the process. This is extraordinarily rare, and often seen in operatives trained to resist this process.


The only option is to record his statement and release him.



Combat Capabilities:

indentationArmiger has no ‘natural’ superhuman or supernatural powers. His capabilities are derived from his natural talents, trained skills, and cybernetic augmentation.



‘Rapture’ Cybersystem-


‘Jericho’ exoskeleton:' A resilient armored sheath over Armiger’s body. Like all of his augmentations, it contains no metal in its construction. The material is unidentified as of yet, but resembles a carbon polymer metamaterial- it is rigid to a degree at certain external points, though the underlayer is very flexible. It is capable of sustaining a heavy degree of punishment. While it is capable of dispersing kinetic energy and thermal throughout the body and away from the impact point, it is capable of being pierced. It is highly resistant to temperature extremes and capable of functioning at any known environment on earth. It is shielded from EMP and resistant to corrosive materials. It is best described as ‘weightless’, as it is incorporated into Jackson’s natural physical body at all times- therefore his weight is always 190 pounds, despite the exoskeleton’s presence or absence.


‘Solomon’ neural augmentation system: Essentially two devices in one- a virtual library of combat statistics from various sources, as well as a tactical analysis system; this augmentation gives Armiger the ability to analyze his opponents and identify their superhuman and supernatural capabilities based on factors, using a combination of data gathered from everything ranging from posture and body composition, multiple thermal and frequency readings, to subtle gestures. The data is matched against a library of known superhuman and supernatural abilities as well as accessible databases. The result is an unrefined analysis of a potential opponent’s capabilities to give him an edge in combat against metahumans.


‘Samson’ muscular/skeletal augmentation:' A fully-converted muscular and skeletal system made of highly advanced polymers designed to make Armiger faster, stronger, and tougher. He is capable of lifting and throwing the engine of a semi-truck at least 15 yards, leaping at least three stories in height and 50 yards in distance, and running up to 40 Miles Per Hour. Combined with the Jericho exoskeleton, Armiger is capable of withstanding a degree of even superhuman pummeling. This augmentation has placed him on equal footing with most superhumans in combat- though due to his preference for weaponry, many superhumans are unaware of this capability.


‘Gabriel’ reflex system:' Capable of carrying messages from the brain to his extremities nearly ten times faster than a human nervous system, this augmentation lends to Jackson’s combat abilities in a multitude of ways- and also making it appear as if he has a mild ‘precognition’ when his reaction time to incoming attacks is observed by others.


‘David’ target/scanning system:' Linked directly to his optical implants, this system provides clear visibility of the combat environment. It is capable of thermal, low-light, nightvision, density scan, and various other visibility settings. It also features a rangefinder and targeting system that calculates windage and elevation instantly and compensates for any environmental variables. It is capable of calculating the trajectory and impact of most firearms after 3-5 shots and identifying the possible spread of automatic or sustained fire instantly.


‘Judah’ neural balancer/enhancer: By soothing or stimulating parts of the brain to target fear, anger, tranquility, or even extasy and addiction; this augmentation gives Armiger the ability to place himself in a calm and collected state in the heat of battle… or drive himself into a homicidal berserker bloodlust.


Armiger is a highly-skilled combatant in many disciplines. He is an expert marksman, and exceptionally skilled in a firefight. With melee weapons, he is no less formidable and is trained to use anything from knives to single-handed blade weapons. He is a skilled with a bow and thrown weapons such as knives and tomahawks. In unarmed combat, he is highly proficient in Krav Maga, Muay Thai, MCMAP, and street brawling. He is a cunning tactician capable of making decisions on the fly and improvising to a frightening degree.

While Armiger has no recollection of the time between his near-death and his return to consciousness in Millennium City- he does retain a sort of ‘fragmented’ memory involving his conflicts with superhumans that may be triggered by data contained in his neural augmentation. Because of this, he is quite skilled at out-thinking and planning attack strategies at various superhuman and supernatural beings.

Outside combat, he is a very skilled mechanic and machinist- and not only modifies his weapons and equipment, but restores and rebuilds older-model vehicles as a hobby. He is quite talented at reverse-engineering sophisticated technology and possesses knowledge of chemistry equivalent to that of a master’s degree. Most devices used by Armiger outside his cybernetics are modified versions or replicas of stolen and confiscated technology. He is also surprisingly skilled as a cook, despite his minimal nutritional requirements and specializes in southern-style cuisine.

Brief History:

indentation

Armiger's first appearance in Millennium City was October 12, 2010. After targeting several low-profile superhuman criminals, his use of lethal force caused some degree of concern in the local police department. All crime scenes indicated that the force had been escalated, and that the targets had resisted violently. The nature of these incidents forced law enforcement authorities to move first to attempt to head Armiger off. Armiger was found at once scene, apparently awaiting apprehension. He allowed himself to be taken into PRIMUS custody.



Known Associations:

indentationBoss Pants - Stuff stuff stuff.

indentationScary Pants - Stuff stuff stuff.

indentationLady Butts - Stuff stuff stuff.



Miscellaneous Notes:

indentationFortunately for almost everyone, Jackson is known to have a sense of humor. He often jokes in ways that make him seem unintelligent, though this may be a ruse to hide his true intellectual strength. He often resorts to the simplest solution to a problem, though this is hardly a sign of stupidity- but rather of efficiency and resourcefulness.


Jackson’s years from the age of 20 to 29 were spent in a stasis, only being unleashed to strike down a metahuman threat. Holding no real memories or experiencing no life during these years leaves Jackson’s personality a bit awkward at times- with some of the enthusiastic youth and calm adult within him struggling on occasion. His taste in music is a reflection of the years he was alive… and some years before. Being from another reality; he often references movies, shows, events, and characters that persons around him may not understand.


If asked a question, Jackson often answers bluntly and with a ‘no-bull’ manner. He has difficulty lying to others, except when done to preserve the safety and security of another. He has no tolerance whatsoever for ‘bullies’ or the abuse of power, especially when dealing with superhumans and supernaturals. It has often been stated that he is ‘anti-metahuman’… though he seems to be more concerned with ‘equality’ of all persons- to include AI, Aliens, superhumans, humans, and even the undead sentients and supernatural beings. He is often heard stating that ‘everyone deserves a fair shake, until they shake it wrong’.


He is pragmatic, and maintains no personal code against taking a life- if the deed is justified in a combat situation. He would rather a thief return something stolen and apologize, an addict seek medical help in a rehabilitation clinic, and other ‘minor non-violent criminals’ simply repay their debt to society and seek a better path. Murderers, rapists, terrorists, and those who harm children or animals can expect absolutely no compassion from him.



Public Opinion:

indentation

indentation"Amatuers talk about weapon systems and kit, professionals talk about training and logistics and mental preparedness. And then there's Jackson; who talks about tits, beer, and ribs." -Adam Fairfield